Page 53 of Knot What She Seems
“I know I’m scary,” I continue gruffly. I extend my arm, palm open, and show her the flower I plucked. Pretty, just like her.
Brylee’s eyebrows curve down as she focuses on the flower. For a long moment, she doesn’t take it, and panic reverberates through me. Did I already fuck this up? But then she hesitantly reaches forward and grabs the stem from me, holding it gingerly. Her hand only touches mine for a fraction of a second, but I swear heat migrates from that menial connection. I feel hot all over.
She carefully traces one of the petals with the tip of her finger, her gaze intent. I want her to look at me. I want her to look away.
I don’t know what I want anymore.
“So…” She rocks back on her heels and releases an airy laugh—the noise rife with something akin to panic. “This is awkward.”
“Mate,” I murmur, taking another step closer. The final step. The tips of my shoes touch her own. Her feet are so small close to mine.
Brylee sucks in a startled gasp and cranes her neck to stare at me. At the scars on my chest and arms. At the tattoos. At the mask on my face, obscuring the worst of my injuries from view. I allow her to look. Want her to look. Want her to want me, the way I want her.
My heart’s racing so loudly, I’d be surprised if she doesn’t hear it.
She’s so beautiful.
And I’m so…me.
Tentatively, I ask, “Can I…touch you?” I feel heat rush to my cheeks. Grateful she can’t see my face.
“Yes.” She sounds shocked by her own answer, but she doesn’t pull away as I run the pads of my fingers across her cheek with the same tenderness she showed the petal of the flower.
“Beautiful,” I murmur out loud.
Want to spoil her.
Cherish her.
Love her.
Build a nest.
Never wanted that shit before. Now, it’s all I can think about.
The drive to see her smiling, lying amid a mountain of pillows, none as soft as her—it’s a physical need as urgent as a parched throat. As raging hunger.
Want to stand between her and the world.
Stop it from touching her.
Hurting her.
Her lips are slightly parted. Wonder what they taste like. Whatshetastes like.
I lean in.
And Brylee immediately stumbles away like she’s been set on fire.
“I NEED TO PEE!” The words are practically a scream. Her cheeks immediately turn crimson, and she turns her attention to the backpack. She grabs one of the straps and gives it a tug, nearly falling over in the process as she pulls it out.
I eye her in concern. “Thought you wanted that in there?”
The backpack looks way too large for her. She practically waddles from side to side with it on.
“Changed my mind!” Her panicked eyes flit in all directions, never stopping on me.
I scared her.
